


Winter Storms

by PreciousTulips



Category: Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Bucky Barnes Angst, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreciousTulips/pseuds/PreciousTulips
Summary: “Why are you here.” For once, Tony couldn’t stop his venomous tongue, words biting through the tense air of the night like a python, finally snapping at it’s stalked prey. Though said python was snapping not at all at a mouse, but rather a highly trained super-spy.The moonlight reflected off of that metal arm, bringing it to further attention. Tony refused to look at it.Barnes didn’t answer right away, which further irritated Tony. He was only met with a slow, sluggish blink, and a hard swallow for several seconds.“Why are you?” A voice like gravel responded, rough from what? Screaming? Tony could only imagine the kind of nightmares he had.





	1. Chapter 1

Nights in winter were Tony’s favorite to be awake during. That being said, he was awake anyways, through every night of every other month. Still, the gentle, innocent falling of the snow never ceased to amaze Tony. 

 

The quiet, soft whispers of wind, gently brushing the snow out of its straightforward path. The way it layered up, covering every single one of the Earth’s many imperfections with a layer of clean white. The way the streetlights turned the white, frozen water orange just for a moment. In the morning, the animal tracks in the snow, evidence of compassionate life outside of the Avengers compound. All of these tender and delicate things allowed Tony to reach a calm serenity and forget about the things that plagued him on a daily basis. Things that would continue to plague him on a monthly basis at least. 

 

For starters, the Avengers had returned with a few strays. One particular problematic stray, had once entered his mind without his consent, which was a kind of consent that Tony didn’t even know existed, let alone required to give, before her. Another stray, Steve’s brand new best fucking friend, the one with the wings and smart mouth, had returned as well.

 

Finally, and possibly the most problematic of them all, the last stray. 

 

Now, Tony could go on and on about using the term  _ stray  _ lightly as he was, and draping the word like a very light blanket over the previous two people. For the last one, for Barnes, the term was not at all like a light blanket. Instead, it was more of a heavy weight, clearly placed upon the man. 

 

No one, neither of the two fit the term ‘stray’ like Bucky Barnes did. 

 

The guy was tailing Steve everywhere they went. Wherever the big blue-eyed idiot was, Barnes was right there behind him, jaw firmly clenched and eyes lost as he attempted to adapt to a strange new environment and a new unfamiliar lifestyle. It must be a real internal conflict to have to go through years of torture like that and have to try and erase it like it all never existed in the first place. To have to look into those blue eyes and not recognize them that way that he should. 

 

Tony would feel bad for him if he wasn’t the one that murdered his parents. 

 

Which, in itself, was wrong, and Tony knew that. 

 

Being upset with someone for something they weren’t aware they were doing? Being angry at someone for something that they couldn’t help?

 

It was irrational. 

 

And Tony knew it. 

 

Still though, seeing him wander around like that made Tony so unbelievably irritated, he constantly had to hold back the venomous words that threatened to spill every time he saw that distant and lost expression. Something about it made his stomach twist with frustration. 

  
  


On this particular night, Tony had done all he can to seek solitude away from the other inhabitants of the compound. He’d been in his lab, working tirelessly into the night, as he normally did, throwing his all into his work. This allowed Tony to lose himself in the technicalities of his inventions. To let the chaos and anxiety melt away while his hands flew across the keyboards and holographic screens with immense preciseness. 

 

He tried to stay sane this way. 

 

He’d been locked away, refusing any sort of contact from anyone who was so inclined to ask to speak with him; most of the time, the amount of people who  _ did _ want to talk to him was reduced by the day. Now, he mostly only heard from Pepper, on strict SI business, ready to dump questions and demand signatures. It wasn’t like he minded, he loved hearing from his girl.

 

Sometimes, though, he wished that she’d ask him how he was holding up.

 

All of these stresses, these points of pain cutting into Tony like knives, the only solace being his habit of working himself into exhaustion, had started to wear down on him. Of course, when someone runs themselves thin, they’d undoubtedly find themselves fatigued. Any sort of hard work would, and Tony’s work was difficult and unending, and he needed coffee.

 

So, rather innocently, he’d made the trek up those cold marble steps in the dead of night, not a sound to be heard. Tony’s socks padded his soft, now softer, steps. The grime on his clothes and shirt was starting to bother him, his once perfectly kept fingernails caked with oil and grease. Sweat had mixed in there too, making the man feel like he’d really need to scrub the next time he showered, which needed to be somewhat soon. Tony’s hair was unkempt and tousled in a ruffled mess atop his head, not at all perfectly groomed like it normally was. Finally, his once bright and eccentric expression had been reduced to a dull stare, bags pulling down at his eyes, and lips tilted into an almost permanent grimace. All of this made Tony look not unlike a homeless person, someone who hadn’t seen sunlight for days; coming up the steps in the dead of night like this was supposed to be just a solitary action. 

 

At least, that’s what Tony had anticipated. 

 

For who else would be in the common area kitchen, in the dead of night -or morning, depending on how one looked at it- in the cold darkness of the compound? Who else but an overworked, emotionally exhausted genius would dare be awake at this time of night?

 

James-fucking-Barnes. 

 

Tony’s silent, sock-padded footsteps did not go unnoticed by the soldier, who’d of course found himself restless in the night. Tony should have known, or anticipated this,  _ of course  _ he had trouble sleeping. What human being could go through all of that trauma and not have issues dreaming peacefully?

 

When Tony entered the room, and saw those silvery-blue eyes snap to his own, he did his best to avoid eye contact and pretend like the other wasn’t there. The soldier had just been sitting at the table, shoulders hunched inwards, looking clearly in distress. Tony would have commented on how weird it was to be sitting in the dark like this, but he’d be a hypocrite if he did let the words slip out. Making coffee in the darkness was, and had been, a nightly ritual for Tony Stark, so it wouldn’t be quite fair to comment on Barnes and his darkness sitting. 

 

_ He’d better not comment on my ravishingly good looks.  _ Tony thought bitterly to himself, glancing down at his grease caked nails, his two day old clothing and running a hand through his messy mop of hair. 

 

Neither of them said a word as Tony padded to the coffee maker. Although there were no words shared, an aura of tense started to raise between them. Involuntarily, both man’s shoulders tensed, and they both held their breath in a feeling of suspense. 

 

Which was going to be the one to speak first?

  
  


If Bucky Barnes was not sitting there, Tony might have found this moment to be relaxing. Taking a step away from his lab, from his work for a just a moment to just breathe and sip the hot drink. It was almost like a moment of meditation, just being aware of his own breath in the darkness as he stares peacefully out the window. 

 

Barnes was there though. And Tony couldn’t bring himself to relax. 

 

That was unfair wasn’t it? Tony had given everything he had to the people he cared for, and even more to those he didn’t. Why should he have to give up this solace now? His one moment to unwind, his one place where he was guaranteed no one would linger, because everyone else was deep into their peaceful slumbers. 

 

“Why are you here.” For once, Tony couldn’t stop his venomous tongue, words biting through the tense air of the night like a python, finally snapping at it’s stalked prey. Though said python was snapping not at all at a mouse, but rather a highly trained super-spy.

 

The moonlight reflected off of that metal arm, bringing it to further attention. Tony refused to look at it. 

 

Barnes didn’t answer right away, which further irritated Tony. He was only met with a slow, sluggish blink, and a hard swallow for several seconds. 

 

“Why are  _ you? _ ” A voice like gravel responded, rough from what? Screaming? Tony could only imagine the kind of nightmares he had. 

Tony hadn’t anticipated that question shot right back at him. For a moment, Tony had forgotten that Barnes actually had a voice past soft grunts and screams. Hearing it now felt wrong, or out of place. 

 

“Well, science never sleeps.” Tony murmured, intending for it to sound lighthearted but instead the words were held down by pure exhaustion. He reached for a mug, his favorite- simple white with an atom in the center. The brown steaming drink-of-life filled the mug so perfectly, the steam curling and twisting into nothing. It was Tony’s favorite part to delicately tip the creamer into the mug and watch the lighter, sweet liquid swirl around as he stirred. Light clinking of the spoon hitting the walls of the mug as Tony filled the emptiness of the room. 

 

For a moment, Tony had thought that the man had left. 

 

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, his body tensed more than it had before now. No, Barnes had not at all left. Instead, he was staring at Tony with such an intensity, Tony found his breath song, stolen away from him by those silver-blue eyes. They cut through the darkness, almost glowing through the shadows from the night that framed his jaw, his face. 

 

Barnes was looking at him like he’d just thrown some awful phrase at him, or maybe like he was trying to analyze an enigma. Tony tried to place his finger on that  _ look _ , but to no avail. 

 

He had no idea what Barnes was thinking. 

 

“ _ What!”  _ Tony, breathless, turned completely, mug in hand and leaning back against the expensive countertop. Once again, Tony found his attention stuck on his own appearance. There was something about that burning gaze that made him incredibly self conscious. The least he could have done was get the grime out from beneath his nails, out of the cracks of his knuckles. 

 

“I couldn’t sleep either.” Barnes murmured in return. In an instant, that intensity behind those eyes was gone, turned back towards the table. The dullness was back, almost like it had never left in the first place. For a moment, Tony had to try and convince himself that yes, he had seen it. Though it had vanished like a flame that had just been blown out. 

 

“No, I  _ can  _ sleep, I just-”

 

“So then why don’t you? You’re exhausted.” Bucky shot at Tony, soft voice suddenly as hard as steel. He’d interrupted Tony. For a moment, Tony was speechless. Blinking, he swirled his coffee around in the mug as he stared right back at Barnes and that defiant expression. 

 

It was almost like he’d spoken out of turn, like that kind of behavior wasn’t allowed here. 

 

A smirk pulled at Tony’s lips, an involuntary response. Bucky’s gaze flickered down to Tony’s lips for just a moment, and then returning to Tony’s eyes. 

 

“Sometimes the best things can come out of exhaustion.” Tony informed, sipping his coffee and relaxing at the way the heat of the drink spread throughout his body, warming areas he didn’t even know was cold until now. 

 

The defiance faded from Bucky’s expression, and he averted his eyes. 

 

“ _ I guess _ .” a quiet whisper. 

 

“You want coffee, Soldier? It works wonders for exhaustion, let me tell y-” Tony tried.  

 

“No.” 

 

_ Fine, then. _ Tony didn’t even know why he’d attempted to offer some of  his precious coffee. Where in his mind had he thought up the idea to be nice to Barnes like that? Only to have the offer rejected and thrown right back in his face before he could even finish his sentence? 

 

For a moment more, they just stared at each other. Brown eyes accusatory and somewhat offended and takenabback. The opposing gaze was once again vaguely defiant but mostly just exhausted.

 

Something they both shared.  

 

Once again, the pair was shrouded in a tense silence. The air held its breath, the world held its breath as Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes attempted to just  _ be _ in the same room as one another. Tony spun back around, trying to appreciate the chaotic winter storm outside of the window, and ignoring the winter storm that sat at the table behind him. 

 

He was halfway through his cup of coffee, and the clock struck two. Why hadn’t he left yet? Furthermore, why hadn’t Barnes? Thy both were very clearly uncomfortable sitting here together, and both would absolutely be more comfortable elsewhere, but here they both were. 

 

“You know, I don’t know what you see in Rogers. A strong man like you, following him around like a lost puppy. What’s with that, Barnes? Don’t have a mind of your own?” There was something about the chaos outside that made Tony want to bring it into the safe confines of the compound. After all, that’s what Tony was known for. Starting shit where shit didn’t need to be started. 

 

He’d expected irritation, or a sharp snap of words thrown right back at him, and for the nth time tonight, he was met with silence, and an uncomfortable shift in position. Tony turned back around, taking another sip of his coffee. This time, Barnes was looking anywhere but Tony, eyes clouded with grief. For a moment, Tony wished that he hadn’t spoken those venomous words at all. 

 

But he had, and he couldn’t take them back. 

 

“I’m still lookin’ for it, I guess.” He murmured, standing and leaving the room without a second glance at Tony. Without a glance to the man who surely felt incredibly guilty for letting words like that slide. 

 

With a heavy sigh, Tony swallowed hard and swirled his coffee around in his mug again before just dumping the rest down the drain. The snow could not look beautiful tonight if it tried. Instead, it was a swirling tornado of cold, whipping around anything and everything that stood in its way. Instead of a gentle, peaceful night, there was only guilt and chaos. 

 

Silently, Tony padded, socks, grease and all, back down to the lab. 


	2. Chapter 2

The chaos, the relentless winter storm continued on for several nights. During said nights, Tony remained firmly within the comfort of his lab, desperately trying to shove away all thoughts of that encounter several nights previously; trying not to focus on the way the shadows fell so delicately, caressing Bucky’s haunted facial features, trying not to think about how intense that gaze had been. The eyes that matched were like sharp shards of ice, cutting through the air at Tony, rendering him speechless and breathless. It was like those eyes were searching the depths of Tony’s soul and yanking out every vulnerable thought he’d ever held tightly to.

 

No one had ever looked at him that way before, and he was still trying to decide if that was a good thing, or bad. 

 

Nevertheless, Tony had avoided the kitchen at night as well as the common areas during the day. This made leaving the lab next to impossible. Not that it mattered, Tony wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with music pounding to the beat of his heart, stealing at his hearing ability. 

 

Still though, he’d be content if he could possibly just have another cup of coffee. 

 

After the third day, the fifth time falling asleep at his desk and the second time tumbling down to the floor, Tony came to the rathe reluctant conclusion that he would have to venture up to get coffee once more. Or at least take the whole coffee maker to his den, his nest of electronics in the lower level of the compound. Either way, he’d have to risk seeing those eyes again, those eyes that held so much pain and yet nothing at all, both at the same time. 

 

This time, he’d be prepared. There would be no self-doubt, no worry about his appearance or his smell. The shower would do wonders for the aches that twisted at the muscles in his shoulders too. Hunching over his workshop table was proving to be a massive pain in his ass. 

 

Standing, bones cracking, he walked to his bedroom. His feet almost wouldn’t listen to him, dragging across the floor and almost catching and tumbling on every doorway or piece of furniture in between. The window, he noticed, displayed only darkness outside. Sunlight, was not present, and Tony could not remember the last time he’d seen it. 

 

What time was it?

 

Tony didn’t know, and had no hope of knowing. His brain wouldn’t function enough to remember where the closest clock was. Why did it matter anyways?

 

All he needed was to get to the shower, and then get to his coffee, hopefully without seeing Barnes again. 

 

Finally within the confines of the bathroom, Tony began to peel off his sweat covered clothing. It felt good to finally relax under the steaming hot water from the showerhead. As soon as the water hit his grease covered skin, he let out a soft sigh of relief. For once, all his tension was washed away as he scrubbed at his skin. 

 

Once he was done, stepping out onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor, he toweled dry and redressed in the bedroom. 

 

It felt nice to finally shed the disgusting clothes, and to wash the grime out of his hair. This would undoubtedly help to deflect any judgements about his physical appearance. Still, with sluggish movements and slow blinks, at least he could say that he smelled like cucumber melon. After all of his was done, he’d combed his hair and brushed his teeth, staring into those dead eyes for just a moment, he heaved a sigh and averted his gaze. Staring at the reflection was not going to make it look any different. No matter how hard Tony tried, that exhausted stare would not leave. 

 

It never did.

 

Placing a hand on the doorknob, he pulled it open and made his way to the kitchen like he had so many times before. This time was no different, Tony tried to convince himself, but this time there was a possibility that Bucky Barnes would be sitting in the kitchen, plagued by his own issues; issues that were, undoubtedly, much worse than Tony could ever imagine. 

 

He had to keep reminding himself of this, because if he didn’t, he would lose the little sympathy towards Barnes that he had. 

 

The hallways were draped in darkness, and the only way Tony didn’t stumble into a wall was because he’d gone through this trek so many times before; he’d memorized every twist and turn of the fairly new compound. So many other times he’d gone through the need for coffee and made his way through the darkness of the night to seek out the noisy coffee maker that helped him live through the night without collapsing into exhaustion. 

 

For a moment, Tony was overjoyed. 

 

He thought that he was the only one to inhabit the kitchen, but alas, there Bucky sat. The difference his time was that he sat in a different chair than last time. A new spot at the table that was more shrouded in darkness. Now, the only thing Tony could see was the basic silhouette of a man, and that unmistakable glint of the metal arm reflecting any light that it could catch. 

 

Tony’s hope died. At least he was put together this time. 

 

As Tony passed by the table, he stole a glance at the super soldier. Maybe Tony had tried to clean up, but Barnes sure hadn’t.

 

The poor guy looked awful. Strong shoulders hunched inwards, head rested in his hands. Clearly the only thing keeping this man upright was sheer willpower.Willpower that should never, under any circumstance, be taken lightly. 

 

Tony didn’t speak as he began his ritual of making coffee, staring out the window above the counter, fingers tapping impatiently at the marble surface as if it would make the machine work faster. 

 

It didn’t. 

Tony heard a sigh from behind him, and a soft movement as the soldier shifted positions in the chair.

 

“Is science still not sleeping?” The gravelly voice broke the silence, the precious silence that Tony always seemed get every little of. Tony huffed a laugh, nodding without looking behind him. 

 

“No, it isn’t. Are you out here every night?” Tony asked curiously. Should he be concerned about running into this man every night? Was there ever going to be a moment where he could come here and regain his private moment to just stare peacefully out the window?

 

“Most nights don’t pass well for me. I can leave if you want me to.” Bucky offered, staring down at his hands rested on the table in front of him. He hated the way that the metal fit inside of his other hand. It wasn’t natural, none of it was. 

 

Tony hesitated. Was it entirely fair to kick Barnes out of the shared, communal kitchen? Technically, he was allowed in here whenever he wanted to be, and Tony had no right to telling him no; though on the other side, Bucky  _ had _ asked him if that’s what he would prefer. Therefore, Tony could rightly say that he would like Barnes to leave, and not feel guilty in doing so. 

 

Still though, he hesitated, holding his breath. There was no exact reason why Tony didn’t tell him to go right away, no real answer to give. Maybe it was overwhelming guilt still, that caused him to consider letting Bucky stay. It could have also been the sight of Bucky’s state of pure exhaustion; being told to leave was the last thing Bucky needed right now, Tony was sure. 

“I don’t care what you do.” Tony murmured, not believing his own words. The stunned silence from Barnes told him that he didn’t at all believe what Tony had just said either. 

 

For the next few moments, the tense silence had returned. For the pair, this tense aura was starting to become familiar. 

 

“Coffee?” Tony offered for the second time since beginning to actually speak with Barnes. Once again, he was rejected. Tony turned to meet Bucky’s gaze and he was met with a shaking head, clearly gesturing no. 

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly. Was Barnes afraid that Tony would poison him or something? How could he deny that dark and homey smell ,the feeling of warmth spreading through his chest?

 

“I don’t like coffee.” Bucky murmured, eyebrows furrowing like he’d just said something incorrect or unwelcome. The trickling of the coffee maker filled in the silence that grew heavy as Tony realized the impending conflict within Bucky. Of course, how had he not so clearly understood before now. Bucky’s silence, his reluctance to state his likes and dislikes. It was Hydra and the crippling scars that they left within Bucky’s mind.

 

“You don’t have to like coffee.” Tony attempted to calmly reassure the man, but was only met with a pointed, heavily exhausted look. He had no hope of deciphering the true meaning. 

 

That’s what frustrated Tony about Bucky. 

 

Normally, he was rather good at deciphering enigmas. Tony could solve the most complicated riddle, he could solve equations with ease.

 

Bucky Barnes, was not an enigma, nor was he an equation to solve. The tortured soldier was much, much more complicated than just that. 

 

Once again, the two men were surrounded with a heavy, suffocating silence. There was no whipping snow outside, there was no howling, screaming wind to carry away the grief of the moment. The realization of just  _ how _  incredibly damaged Bucky was, was resting like a weight on Tony’s fairly capable shoulders. 

 

With his coffee now, the light tinkling of the stirring ended the silence. 

 

“What  _ do _ you like?” The question from the genius was soft, probing through Bucky’s exhaustion to hopefully find an answer. Tony wasn’t sure why he cared so damn much. 

 

Then, Tony’s breath caught in his throat, trapped without question and unable to move on to his lungs, nor exhale past his lips. There was that gaze again, with all of it’s world crumbling intensity. Tony’s eyes were wide like an owl as Bucky held him captive with only one expression, only a simple gaze. Tony’s heart pounded in his chest, with fear or with excitement, he wasn’t sure yet, and didn’t know if he ever would be. 

 

Once again, those sharp silver-blue eyes gave way to an immense wave of emotion beneath them. The most prominent of said emotions was a swirling wounded expression, a vulnerable and lost gaze that was caressed with a sharp defensiveness. Tony could spend all day trying to identify every emotion in that sea behind those irises. 

 

“I don’t know anymore.” Barnes responded to Tony, eyebrows pushing together to further intensify the expression. Still, Tony didn’t breathe. Didn’t at all move, like prey frozen within the sights of the predator. Bucky didn’t have to pounce though, he had Tony captive with those eyes that shone through the night. 

 

The response yanked out a soft, shaky breath from Tony. How was it that Bucky was affecting him this way? It wasn't anything that Tony could have ever prepared for. His mind turned to mush as he clung to Bucky’s words, trying to pull himself out of the tar that kept his intellectual mind from working. 

 

Tony repeated the response in his mind a few times, turning it over and over like a rough stone that surely turned smooth from the amount of times Tony’s mind ran over it. 

 

Barnes didn’t know what he liked. 

 

Finally, Bucky’s gaze returned to his hands rested against the table in front of him. The contrast between them was something that neither of them were able to ignore, but neither of them mentioned either. 

 

“Well, not coffee, we know that one.” Tony forced the words out of his chapped, trembling lips, glancing down at his shaky hand.

 

White knuckles gripped the mug. 

 

“We?” Bucky asked quietly, throwing a glance Tony’s way, and for a moment Tony was afraid that he’d stare again, but thankfully the sea of emotion seemed to fade into a dull greyness again. Tony didn’t like that either, but didn’t know which he’d prefer. One was too much for Tony to handle, and the other was barely any emotion at all. 

 

“Yeah- we. We’re both in the same room, so I guess it would be a collective  _ we.  _ By proximity.” Tony gestured to himself, and then to Bucky with his hand, trying to convey the meaning of a proximity  _ we.  _

 

“Proximity.” Bucky asked, with an accusatory hint to his tone. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Right.” Bucky grunted, running a hand through his long dark hair, that seemed so soft to the touch. Tony had the strange urge to run his fingers through it. 

 

Tony sipped at his coffee, and swirled the brown liquid around in the mug, watching as the coffee rose up the sides, threatening to spill over due to centripetal force. What could ne do now, now that he had this information? Did anyone else know that Barnes had actually no idea what he even liked anymore? Seeing him trailing like a lost dog seemed to make so much more sense now. 

 

“Did you tell Steve?” Tony asked, glancing at Bucky who was now avoiding eye contact. 

 

“What’s there to tell?” Bucky murmured. Tony had no idea how he could have ever thought that this man was loud, every word was quiet, every phrase no louder than a murmur. 

 

“Well about how you sit out here, sulking in all of your mysteriousness, and about how you have no idea what you even  _ like _ anymo-”

 

“No.” Bucky’s tone was final, severing Tony’s statements and train of thought into irreparable pieces. Tony would have thought that those two were attached at the hip, no secrets and no question about secrecy. 

 

So the Captain didn't know. And Tony did. 

 

Considering this information, Tony swirled the coffee around in his mug once again.

 

“Well have you tried hot cocoa?” Tony asked, setting down his mug and already knowing the answer. The shrug of the soldier’s shoulders encouraged Tony further. Turning his back to Barnes, he grabbed a mug, a white one with snowflakes surrounding the mug. He didn’t grab that one on purpose, but decided that it was probably fitting. 

 

As Tony made Bucky hot cocoa, moving with purpose across the kitchen, the hair on his arms rose, and the back of his neck prickled. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he caught that look again.

 

Bucky was watching him. 

 

Tony tried to pay that intense expression no mind as he stirred the now steaming mug of cocoa. For a moment, he considered tossing in some fluffy mini marshmallows, but decided to leave the chocolatey drink alone. Bucky needed to try the drink itself before adding toppings. 

 

Tony turned, very much avoiding eye contact as he set the mug down on the edge of the table. That was as close as he was willing to get to the super soldier. After all, he was still the predator and Tony was very much prey. 

 

Tony moved back to the counter, leaning against it and finally meeting Bucky’s gaze. He was only held captive for a few moments before Bucky’s line of sight drifted down to the cocoa instead. Reaching, he grabbed ahold of the mug with his flesh hand and dragged the mug across the table to rest it in front of himself. 

 

“Careful, it’s hot.” Tony added, receiving only a silent nod in return. After a few silent minutes, Bucky took a tentative sip of the warm, chocolatey liquid. Tony waited with baited breath for a reaction, but that guarded expression never shifted. It remained guarded. 

 

Then, Bucky took another sip, and through the darkness, Tony could see his shoulders start to relax. That reaction caused excitement to bubble up within Tony’s chest. He was able to calm down a distressed super soldier. 

 

“I like it.” Bucky stated calmly, and Tony gave a flashing grin. 

 

“I thought you might. Doesn’t anyone else do this?” Tony asked, refilling his own mug with coffee. 

 

“Make things for me to try?” Bucky asked, taking a sip of his drink again. It was taking him some self discipline to refrain from downing the drink in one go. 

 

“Yes.” Tony nodded. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Oh.” No one else noticed that Bucky had no idea what it was he liked? Did anyone ever actually ask him? How had Tony noticed this, but not Natasha who was trained to analyze body language, and not Steve who was supposed to know Bucky more than anyone? 

 

Then again, who was Tony to try and do this for Barnes? Tony didn’t owe this man anything, and he shouldn’t feel guilty for not seeing it sooner. They’d only ever talked twice. 

 

Tony had his own issues, and couldn’t get involved with Bucky’s. If he didn’t, he had no idea what would happen. Bucky was unknown, and Tony would be best off avoiding that. Avoiding him. 

 

“Well you have cocoa now. That’s one thing. You’re welcome.” Tony could help the bite that crept into his words. He wanted to take it back too, as soon as he saw that startled look from the emotionless man. Tony didn’t have time to consider what the other man might be thinking. Swiftly, he dumped the rest of his coffee, and fled the area at a brisk pace. 

 

He didn’t turn around to see if that heart shattering stare was trained on him as he left. 


	3. Chapter 3

The step-silencing warm socks, cold and cutting marble steps, and howling, harsh winter wind. Coffee. 

It was a pattern that Tony was beginning to recognize and rely on each night he found himself drifting off to sleep at his desk. Though that pattern normally finished with hot, comforting coffee, a few minutes of silence, and then back to work. Always back to work, because if not, Tony would just drift aimlessly about the compound with no real objective in sight. 

 

Tony’s pattern was beginning to break.

 

Or simply shift. 

 

He couldn’t decide which it was yet. 

 

Now, after howling and harsh winter wind, came Bucky Barnes. The man who had decided, rather rudley, to bring the cold and chaotic dance of snowflakes right to his very kitchen. Though this wintery dance inside his kitchen would be better if there  _ were _ in fact, snowflakes; instead there only sit a quietly breathing man with a terrifyingly intense gaze. 

 

This time, Tony didn’t want to waste any time lingering with the Winter Soldier, instead he just moved to the coffee pot and began his process, eyes trained rather firmly to the large window, feeling the way the cold crept in through the thin glass and touched very gently at Tony’s nose. The genius was  _ just _ noticing how his breath was fogging up the window, spreading with every soft exhale when Bucky then decided to speak. 

 

“What did I do wrong?” the Soldier asked, and Tony had hardly heard him; it was more vulnerable than a strong, threatening body would suggest. Tony was sure that if he turned, he’d see that look again, those eyes that tore his soul into pieces without the other man having to move an inch. 

 

For a moment, Tony considered the question. Silence was a comfort that drifted between them, something to keep them from fighting. Silence was often the referee in their tense conversations, if they could even be called that at this point in time. Neither of them honestly and truly expected the other to answer immediately, neither one of them were necessarily ready for the answer as soon as the question was asked. That much, at least, they had in common. 

 

“What are you talking about.” Tony croaked, voice raspy with disuse. The man didn’t turn around, he knew better than to do such a thing. Last time, he was rendered useless trying to think with Bucky looking at him the way he does. So instead, Tony found picking at a spot on the counter suddenly very interesting and worthy of his full attention. There was a light on in the hall that bled light into the kitchen, though Tony didn’t hear anyone else awake or moving around. Due to this fact, he knew that those silver-blue eyes would be further illuminated and easy to make out in the comforting darkness. There was no way Tony would meet that gaze; he wondered what would happen if he came up and saw Bucky during the day. During the day ,every single one of Bucky’s features would be clearly illuminated and defined. Tony was sure that he’d be moved to complete and utter uselessness if he was able to clearly see every inch of the soldier. 

 

“Last time, you made me cocoa and then you were suddenly angry with me. What did I do?” Bucky’s voice gained more confidence, much to Tony’s great dismay. Outside, the wind picked up, starting to seemingly rattle the windows with its harsh ferocity. Snowflaked whipped past the window so quickly, they just looked like white lines, a large white fog that acted as a blanket through the air. 

 

Again, Tony didn’t respond right away. At least they had that, the tendency to take several moments or minutes to provide a response. Neither of them were rushed, it was around three in the morning. Who could possibly be rushed. 

 

Instead, Tony poured his coffee, added the cream and sugar with a gentle sort of carefulness, and then he just watched the steam twirl into the air. Then, Tony thought, and waited, and hesitate so much that ten whole minutes bled by. 

 

Still, Bucky hadn’t asked him again, or offered any sort of additional comment. 

 

Tony turned, and was not, in fact, met with the dreaded look he hated so much. Though somehow, what he saw, was worse than even that look. 

 

Bucky was staring, looking almost defeated at his hands resting on the table. The sheer amount of pain and anguish that writhed behind those eyes was almost too much for Tony to be able to handle. The silver-blue was glazed with a glassy layer of tears that threatened- oh how they threatened- to spill over. Bucky’s shoulders were encased in tremors, as he was forever tormented with a past that could not be undone. 

 

Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach like a boulder dropped in a lake, and nausea caused Tony’s head to spin. The guilt sat not in his heart, but his brain; the genius tried over and over to figure out how to amend anything he’d done to cause this reaction from Barnes. 

 

“Look- you didn’t do anything.” Tony began, setting his coffee mug down and gesturing in a  _ calm down  _ sort of way, though Bucky seemed as calm as could be. If not for the very subtle trembling of his shoulders, and the shine of the tears, Tony wouldn’t have ever known there was anything ailing the soldier. There was no noise, no shift in movement, no change in breathing. From a super-spy, Tony wasn’t sure what he expected. “I just couldn’t get caught up in your problems- ugh wait that’s a horrible way to explain it. Barnes, listen, you killed my parents.”

 

Tony couldn’t say it enough, he was terrible at comforting people. 

 

Bucky finally let out a shaky, tortured breath, shutting his eyes tightly and turning his head away from Tony. The weight on his shoulders had looked so crushing, and Tony had just added so many extra pounds with just four words. 

 

“I’m  _ sorry _ .” Again, Tony hardly caught that, the words nearly go carried away in the sounds of the ice flakes smacking against the glass outside. Now, it was Tony’s turn to let out a shaky sigh. 

 

“That’s not what I meant, Barnes, I- Its okay. Really. I’m just having a hard time empathizing because all I can think about is-” Tony tried again, tried to get Bucky to understand that Tony was going through an internal conflict when it came to Bucky. Should this be a friendly meeting every night, or should Tony keep his distance? Would Bucky throw him out just like everyone in his life had? There was no way Tony could ever hope to be open about these increasingly complicated feelings, instead he just seemed to be making everything worse when it came to trying to explain to Bucky what he was feeling. 

 

“-is your parents.” Bucky finished for him, opening his eyes and attacking Tony with that  _ gaze _ again. This time, it was so much worse than it had been before. Instead of just pure intensity, Tony’s breath was halted at the mass amount of anguish that sat in those eyes. How was it that Bucky had this effect on him? Did anyone else become absolutely paralyzed when Bucky looked at him?

 

“Barnes. Bucky, I didn’t-” Tony exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head a little. “Please don’t look at me like that.” 

 

Bucky averted his gaze.

 

Tony let out another breath to calm his mind. 

 

“Look, I don’t blame you, or maybe I do, but the point is that I haven’t figured that out yet. I don’t want to be friendly, or whatever the hell this is, and then decide that I should hate you or- I don’t know.” Maybe that was a better explanation, maybe that was easier to understand. Tony leaned against the marble countertop, ignoring the cold touch he received in return. At least he had his socks to keep his feet warm. 

 

As expected, Bucky didn’t answer right away. Instead, he found a spot in the room and deemed it the most interesting, and his torturous gaze was stuck there until his shoulders ceased their trembling. Tony’s tongue was dry and twisted, he couldn’t add more explanation to what he’d already given. Maybe it was better if he didn’t try to say anything more. 

 

“That’s good. Smart.” Bucky stated, still not meeting Tony’s gace, and Tony sensed a sort of bitterness dripping from his words. It was either bitterness or a sort of morose feeling, Tony wasn’t sure which. 

 

Silence overcame them once more. Tony was almost halfway through his cup of coffee before Bucky moved. Even then, it was only just a slight shift of his shoulders, a very subtle movement of his feet scuffing across the floor. 

 

“Why are you always here. Why don’t you sulk somewhere else.” Tony decided that blunt harshness was the only thing that would get him through this. Hiding behind his mask of snarky-assholeish comments. Comments that seemed to have to have no effect on Bucky whatsoever, which only puzzled Tony. If there was anything that Tony was especially good at, it was pushing buttons. 

 

“I like the way the windows face the streetlamps. It’s nice. The snow and all.” Bucky murmured. He was always murmuring, Tony had to strain to hear the words, and even then it was only every other word that Tony caught. Most of Bucky’s sentences were ones that Tony had to try and piece together like a puzzle. 

 

Bucky’s explanation made a whole lot of sense. That’s exactly why Tony came in here to have his quiet coffee moments. There was no way that Tony could blame Bucky for sitting in here on a difficult night. 

 

“Well that’s the same reason I come here, soldier.” Tony swirled the dark coffee around in his mug. 

 

Bucky huffed a laugh, and nodded. 

 

“You have good taste in scenery.” Bucky answered in return, giving Tony an exhausted, but amused glance. 

 

“Thank you.” Tony responded with a gentle smile, his harsh demeanor fading as soon as he heard that laugh from the soldier. That laugh had that sort of effect, the kind of thing that no one could possibly frown at. It chased away any hope of sadness or anger with just one simple noise. 

 

“Are you leaving now?” Bucky stood from the table, and Tony’s heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, his skin started to tingle and his hands were too sweaty to have confidence holding the mug. Now it was Tony’s turn to notice a tremble in his own hands, to notice the way his heart  _ kept _ skipping beats; kept speeding up until his body wasn’t sure if he was running a marathon or not. Tony’s mind wasn’t aware of the passage of time anymore, one small moment of watching the Soldier stand felt like ten years of the same scene. Pupils dilated, heart racing, frozen in panic, Tony watched Bucky Barnes and his mouth that was moving, though no sound reached Tony’s ears. 

 

Then, all at once, the world hit Tony with a sudden sense of awareness. All of the muffled sound smacked him in the face and became clear. Though nothing made any sense yet, nothing registered in his mind. One moment, Bucky had stood and the next, he watching Tony with a concerned expression. How much time had passed?

 

“ _ Huh _ ?” 

 

It came out as such a short and dumb question, Tony wasn’t even sure why he’d asked it. His hands were still shaking, despite his awareness of the lack of impending danger. 

 

“I asked you if you were going to leave. You always go after half an hour.” Bucky stated calmly, noticing the change in Tony’s demeanor and deicing to sit right back down at the table. As he did, Tony’s heart had started to realize where they were. Certainly not running a marathon. 

 

“Do I?” Tony asked on an inhale, glancing at the clock. The genius didn’t realize that he’d been leaving at such a timely manner every time he came up for coffee. A half an hour? Really?

 

“You do.” Bucky gave a calm nod. He was always so infuriatingly calm. 

 

“Then...then I suppose I should go.” Tony’s eyebrows pushed together, and he, as always, dumped the rest of his coffee into the sink. This time he hesitated, breathing quietly as he stared out the window with his back towards Bucky. 

 

“Alright. Goodnight.” Bucky offered softly, drawing out a huff from the smaller man. That was better than nothing, he supposed. 

 

“Goodnight, Barnes. Enjoy the view.” Tony wanted so desperately to sound bitter, but he couldn’t help the exhaustion that tugged his words down. It was  _ his _ view, his spot to heal, and now he had to share it. It should infuriate Tony, but really, he just wanted to get some rest. 

 

Though, as always, instead of going to the bedroom Tony padded down the steps to the lab. There was far too much to do to allow himself to worry about laying in bed and falling asleep. There was no room for error, no room to waste eight hours on doing absolutely nothing. 


	4. Chapter 4

For a couple days, Tony resisted going up those stairs into the uncharted waters that was Bucky Barnes. Tony was not going to step into the cartographer role if it was the last thing he did.

 

James Bucky Barnes would remain uncharted. 

 

Though eventually time him in it’s clutched and he could hardly force his eyes to remain open.

 

For the fourth and hopefully final time, Tony hauled himself up the dreaded marble steps. Every time he came up, it seemed as though those steps had grown longer, one more step added at the top just to spite Tony. It became harder and harder to make up to the final step; his feet caught on nothing every time he made the move to take the next step and the exhausted man nearly fell each time. 

 

The hand rail had become his lifeline. 

 

Tony was sure that without it, he wouldn’t be able to make it up as the colors around him swirled before his eyes. Then, he was covered in a blanket of darkness as opposed to his bright lab lights that seemed to constantly pierce his skull. 

 

This time, it was fairly early in the night, so hopefully Barnes wouldn’t be there. 

 

Tony was correct. 

 

Moving through the dark commons, relying solely on memory of the layout, Tony did not see the silhouette of the soldier sitting at the table. Hesitating for a moment, Tony continued with his routine of making coffee. Internally, there was a war started. On one hand, he was genuinely worried about Bucky, and on the other, Tony decided that he shouldn’t care one bit.  

 

Staring out the window, finally with some peace in that painfully empty kitchen, Tony trained his eyes on the stars that he could clearly see scattering across the sky. It was not snowing tonight, there were no clouds to try and make out against the night sky. There was only lightly glittering orbs of light that dances across the sky. 

 

Hopefully the soldier was getting some sleep. 

 

Just as Tony thought of it, he heard it. The noise cut through the night like a newly sharpened knife, and Tony’s blood ran ice cold. 

 

His hands started to shake. 

 

It was agonizing screaming, blood curdling screaming. The kind that would sent a heart to a quickening pace, and cause flushed skin to pale in an instant. The noise was downright terrifying, heartbreaking to listen to because it just sounded so  _ human _ . So tortured.

 

Before Tony even know what he was doing, his feet were moving his body to the source, though he didn’t know at all what he’d do when he got there. He should have known that they would lead him towards the door that belonged to James Barnes; being as smart as he was, Tony should have absolutely seen this coming. Seeing Steve Rogers, bewildered and hesitant right outside of Bucky’s door was just as shocking as hearing the screaming in the first place. 

 

Tony would have laughed, if this were not the situation he was in right now. Steve was clearly somewhat still asleep, bleary eyed and frantic, messy hair and without a shirt. The huge, so sure of himself man, was not at all sure of himself now. Neither was Tony, really. 

 

The two held eye contact for far too long as the screaming turned to loud pleading and heartbreaking sobs. Tony could hardly find his breath as he listened to how utterly horrid those noises were. The look in Steve’s eye told him that he was not alone in this feeling. The hall was dark, but not dark enough to hide the panic in Steve’s eyes nor the caution in Tony’s. 

 

“I have to get in there-” Steve choked out, throwing his broad shoulder against the door with a loud  _ bang!  _ Tony had hardly heard him over Bucky’s increasingly more terrified shouts of anguish.

 

In that moment, the reality of the terrifying situation they were in came rushing at Tony like a freight train. A freight train that had absolutely no intention of slowing or stopping. All Tony could do was stand there and watch it happen. 

 

Over and over, Steve backed up and came full force at the door, and each time it didn’t work. Of course it wouldn’t, Tony designed these doors to be super soldier proof. That didn’t stop Steve, who was so stubborn in every way. 

 

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

 

Like a hammer in Tony’s head, the noise at least was louder than the screaming. Tony already knew he’d have nightmares about the screaming. 

 

Wide, terrified brown eyes watched as Steve frantically hit the door over and over, frozen in his tracks. They needed to get in, how could they get in? Why was this so difficult? How could Tony help, and did he even want to?

 

The begging and pleading from behind the door told him yes, he did in fact want to help. Sure they may have their disagreements, but Tony could not listen to this and just walk away.  

 

All of the sudden, that train hit Tony, forcing his mind to start moving. How could he have been so stupid. 

 

“Friday, open the door!” Tony commanded, and Steve paused and mirrored Tony’s dumbfounded expression. Why hadn’t they thought of that in the first place? As the door slid open, the yelling of course got louder, ringing through their ears like a wave of painful electricity. 

 

Steve was the first to move, rushing into the room with Tony close behind. 

 

Seeing Bucky writhing on the sheets was so much worse than hearing it. The man managed to scream with his entire body, not just simply with his throat; his body twisted and turned, fists clenched in the expensive blankets, legs kicking at a threat that didn’t exist in the physical world. Through the darkness, Steve and Tony had trouble seeing all of this, but the light in the hall bled into the room and they could very clearly see the way Bucky was writhing. 

 

For a moment, Steve and Tony could only stare in silent horror at Bucky. 

 

“We have to help him, you go get the-” Steve began, and Tony had no idea how he was going to finish that statement. Before Steve could finish, a sudden gunshot rang out in the night.

 

Both of them had taken their eyes off of Bucky and that had cost them. 

 

The first thing Tony had noticed was that the screaming had silenced. The next, was Steve, who was now leaning against the far wall, holding his stomach that was bleeding sluggishly. Looking at Bucky, Tony noticed the far away look in those now opened and terrified eyes.

 

If anything could ease that tortured gaze, Tony would do it in an instant. When had he decided to care so damn much? Seeing the real pain and fear that Bucky felt during sleep greatly uneased Tony. No wonder the soldier sat out in the kitchen after this. Did this happen every night?

 

Rapid russian caught Tony’s attention and suddenly he realized that the barrel of the gun was trained on him. The genius was in no state of mind to try and understand exactly what Bucky was trying to say, exhaustion pulling his mind down to a place he desperately wished that it wasn’t. At times like this, he very surely needed his overactive mind, his tendency to overthink and consider every possible situation. Now, he couldn’t even come up with one simple solution to this very obvious issue. 

 

For several long moments, all there was between the three men was bewildered stares and Steve’s labored breathing. He’d be fine, Tony knew this. The man had super healing, it wouldn’t take long before that would come in to play. 

 

“Hey... _ hey _ ...James Barnes, you’re safe.” Tony spoke so softly, ignoring Steve’s warning glance. Before he even knew what he was doing, Tony’s feet were taking small, timid steps towards the threatening barrel of that gun. Pepper would screamed and shouted if she could see Tony now, in all of his stupidity. 

 

That gun hadn’t yet shot, so that was a plus. 

 

In fact, Bucky’s breath, heavy and erratic, seemed to start to slow to something a little more reasonable. Tony gave a hesitant smile as some calming clarity started to return to those tortured silver eyes. 

 

The winter storm behind them was starting to die down. 

 

“There we go.” Tony praised, as Bucky slowly lowered the gun, pointing it instead at the floor. Which, Tony had to say was much better than at him. “Friday, soft lights.”

 

Gentle lights illuminated the once dark room. 

 

This was reminiscent to the kitchen lighting, but Tony could see Bucky far better than he had recently. Just as he’d predicted, pain slashed through the genius’s heart at the sight of the anguish trapped behind those eyes. The cornered and terrified soldier that didn’t know what else to do besides shoot. 

 

“I-” Tears filled those eyes as Bucky glanced around the room, gaze landing on Steve who was growing more pale by the second. He’d be fine. 

 

“No no, soldier,  _ hey _ , he’s okay. You’re okay, right Rogers?” Tony asked, his eyes not leaving Bucky’s figure that seemed to be getting more and more erratic. Steve gave a nod and a forced smile, that was hopefully enough to fool Bucky. 

 

“I’m  _ great _ .” Steve spoke through a clenched jaw, cheeriness so forced that it sounded terrible. It was a terribly obvious lie, and they both saw how Bucky didn’t dare believe it. The man wasn’t stupid, he saw right through Steve’s act. 

 

“Steve, go make hot chocolate.” Tony suddenly commanded, brown eyes snapping to Steve’s startled gaze. For another few moments, the three of them just breathes quietly. No one moved or spoke until it was inevitable that someone would have to. 

 

“Wha-” Steve began, only to be interrupted by an irritated Tony. 

 

“Don’t question it, Rogers. He  _ likes _ hot chocolate, so you’re going to go make some and bring it here.” Tony snarled viciously, only because of the severity of the situation. Bucky didn’t react to the outside stimulus of obvious irritation. 

Swallowing thickly, Steve forced his body to stand up straight. He kept a hand on the wall to support his weight as he made his way out of the room, swaying and leaning as he went. It wouldn’t take long for his body to quickly heal his wound, but until then it was painful to move about like this. 

 

For Bucky, he could manage well enough. 

 

“Don’t bleed on my stuff!” Tony called out, earning him a pained grunt from down the hall in return.

 

Now it was just Tony and Bucky, left to their separate traumas. At least the gun was pointed away. 

 

Tony stared at Bucky for a long while, watching him carefully. It was almost like waiting, wide eyes and with his heart in his mouth. Bucky’s whole body shook, bones rattling in constant fear of the next threat that came to him. Though there was no threat now, no reason for this pain and fear. Somehow, Tony had to convey this idea to Bucky. 

 

“Why do you like sitting in the kitchen?” Tony asked softly, although he already knew the answer. The genius had asked it before, and of course he didn’t forget the response. Tony Stark’s memory was impeccable. Asking the question now was not at all for the purpose of receiving information, but just to get the distressed soldier’s thoughts on something else. 

 

As usual, Bucky didn’t respond right away. 

 

Tony didn’t make him, he didn’t ask again or offer another comment to hurry along the thought process. 

 

“I like the view.” A rough and heavy voice responded. The tone was more jagged than it normally was and Tony understood now why it sounded that way when he saw him earlier. That information sat heavy on Tony’s heart. This had been happening every time Tony came up and saw the soldier in the kitchen?

 

The response brought out some relief within Tony. At least Bucky had some sort of awareness as to where he was and what was going on around him. Enough to respond intelligently to a prompted question at least. 

 

“Can I come closer?” Tony asked softly, making Bucky strain to hear him. Sometimes trying to focus on a quiet voice was helpful too, that way Bucky at least had to think about something other than whatever horrible thing he’d seen behind his eyelids just minutes ago. Immediately, Bucky responded with a shake of his head. “Okay, yeah I don’t have to. I’ll stay back here.”

 

Tears spilled down Bucky’s soft cheeks as his breath hitched. It seemed that the reality of this difficult situation was finally starting to set in. He’d had a terrifying nightmare, and shot someone. At least that someone was Steve, who wouldn’t dare turn Bucky in or be angry. 

 

“He’s gonna be fine, I’m fine…” Tony attempted to reassure Bucky, but clearly it wasn’t helping. “You have to breathe, Barnes.”

 

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath as Steve came back into the room, taking small steps so he wouldn’t fall and also so that he wouldn’t spill the hot drink he’d just made. Gently, he handed the mug to Bucky who dropped the gun and held the mug tightly. 

 

“How did you know he likes hot cocoa, Stark?” Steve asked immediately, a hint of a bite behind his words. 

 

“Oh y’know.” Tony waved his hand as if dismissing the idea that he knew anything personal about Bucky Barnes. “I come up for coffee and he’s normally in there brooding. We both like the view.”

 

Steve turned his gaze to Bucky who was taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. It was like an unspoken conversation that Tony couldn’t seem to understand. Bucky shrugged slightly and Steve shook his head. 

 

“I’m just surprised you knew.” Steve muttered, Tony barely caught his words. 

 

“Yeah you and me both, pal.” Tony grumbled back, glad to see Bucky starting to calm down; which in itself was odd for Tony. Just several nights ago he’d hated even just the thought of Bucky Barnes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Bucky shook his head, so Tony nodded a little in response. 

 

“I want to be alone.” Bucky spoke softly, and Steve started to protest before Tony spoke first. 

 

“Okay. Steve, lets go.” 

 

Steve looked at Tony like he was absolutely insane. Tony stared definitely right back at him. 

 

“Don’t you think that we should stay and talk to him? He needs to talk this through!” Steve was so adamant that Bucky needed to heal by talking about his issues, he didn’t bother to care about what Bucky actually might want. Bucky didn’t defend himself either, and Tony was sure that if he wasn’t there, the soldier would just give in and talk about his terrifying nightmare. 

 

“No, Steve. He asked us to go, so we should go. If he wants to talk about it, he will. Don’t push him.” Tony stated firmly, gesturing to the door. Steve gave one more hesitant glance at Bucky before sighting and turning to leave. Tony followed behind him, shutting the door as he left. 

 

They walked down the hall together, out of earshot from Bucky’s room. 

 

“Are you okay?” Tony asked Steve, who he knew was still dealing with a gunshot wound. He received a small nod. 

 

“I’m fine. Just worried about him. I’ve never heard him scream that way before.” Steve sighed softly, turning to look directly at Tony now, who sighed along with Steve. 

 

“I know. Go get yourself checked out, Steve.” Tony murmured, only being nice because he was so exhausted, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. 

 

“You too, Tony. Get some rest.” Steve responded with a half smile, making his way to medical. Tony wasn’t going to, because why should he do anything that Captain America says? But the more he thought of it, the more his warm soft bed started to call out to him. So, like he was drifting, he padded to his room and all but fell onto the bed. 

 

The blankets were cold, soothing the heat the arose from distress across his cheeks. Once the man was down, he couldn’t hardly move. The soft cushion of the bed made it had for him to even think about shifting. Before he knew it, his eyes were closed and he was asleep. The events of the night had worn down on him too much to even attempt to stay awake anymore.  


	5. Chapter 5

Walking up after sleeping so long had proved to be quite a challenge for the poor exhausted genius. Sunlight bled in through the window, golden and bright, spilling out across the room and over Tony’s features; the man shifted and let out a low groan of pain as his stiff muscles protested any movement he attempted to give. Despite his pain, Tony forced his body to sit up, his neck sending spikes of pain down his shoulders and spine. 

 

“Dear god, what time is it?” He groaned, and she replied with a cool tone. 

 

“8:35 in the morning sir, you’ve slept for about six hours, which is not nearly enough-”

 

“Yeah yeah.” Tony murmured softly, rolling his shoulders back to try and alleviate the pain. Maybe it wasn’t enough sleep, but it was good enough in his eyes. Six hours was better than nothing at all. After all, there was far too much to do. Tony was up to his neck in several projects that he’d started, new suits and gear, dealing with UN meetings and Ross, not to mention SI and Pepper with awful board and director meetings, things he had to sign or deal with. The workload never seemed to end, and certainly would not be put on pause to get a good night’s sleep. 

 

Swaying on his feet, he padded to the bathroom and looked himself in the mirror before splashing his face with ice cold water to clear out the sleep from his brain. This definitely required coffee, there was no doubt about it. 

 

Sighing softly, he peeled off his clothing and stepped into the shower, washing off all of the dirt and grime that had built up. His hair was greasy enough, and there  was no way he’d go down and face everyone looking the way he was now. 

 

Then, suddenly it hit him like a train. The events from last night. 

 

“Oh  _ fuck _ .” He cursed lowly, running a hand over his face as the steaming water ran down his back in warm droplets. 

 

Bucky had freaked, and Steve and Tony had actually gotten along for a split second without trying to rip each other’s throats out. It must have been because of pure exhaustion, there was no other reason that could have caused something like that. Going to the commons would include possibly seeing Steve, which then he wouldn’t be able to ignore last night’s events. 

 

Stepping out of the shower, he dressed reluctantly and checked himself in the mirror again. 

 

Just as disgusting as always. 

 

Then, the time finally came to go to the commons. Skipping the coffee was always an option, but Tony didn’t want to risk sleep pulling at him as he was trying to work on something important. 

 

So, he turned every corner, cringing at the sound of several people speaking getting louder and louder as he neared the kitchen. Clearly the faint hope that no one would be in there was out the goddamn window. Before he stepped in, he tried to make out the voices so that he’d know exactly what it was that he was getting into. There was Steve, Clint, Nat, and that was all that Tony could hear. 

 

Though that did not mean that Bucky wasn’t in there, more likely than now he wasn’t saying anything. 

 

With a final deep breath, Tony stepped into the kitchen area, making a beeline straight for the coffee maker. 

 

The kitchen fell into a suffocating silence as all eyes were on him. Tony kept his gaze firmly on the coffee maker, resisting the urge to meet any of their gazes. 

 

“Tony.” It was Steve that finally directly addressed him, firm and cautious. At first, Tony tried to ignore him and just get his fucking coffee. A slight shift in movement in the corner of his eye had him feeling cornered though, so he turned and met those blue eyes. In his peripheral vision, he saw Bucky in the same seat he always had, but he wasn’t looking at Tony like everyone else was. 

 

That was comforting at least. The absolute last thing he wanted was to catch that look of intensity right now when there was no shadows to hide any of the man’s facial details.

 

“Hm?” He responded to Steve, who shifted uncomfortably as if he wasn’t expecting Tony to acknowledge him. 

 

“Well I just...thank you for last night. I appreciate you helping like that.” Steve spoke hesitantly like he wasn’t entirely sure of his words, or perhaps wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to say them. It was almost like a little kid who’d been forced by their parents to say thank you. 

 

“Don’t sweat it.” Tony stated simply, spinning back around and nearly dropping his poon in his haste to stir in the creamer and sugar. His hands was shaking so much that he could hardly get the job done. Not looking at them brought some of his breath back, but the tightness in his chest got worse because now his back was towards them. It was a vicious cycle of anxiety and unease. 

 

The kitchen was drowned in silence again, and Tony didn’t mind it one bit. The longer everyone sat in silence, the longer it would take them to think of something nasty to say. Bucky, thank god, stayed silent. 

 

Tony was very sure that he would not be emotionally able to handle him. 

 

He was fairly certain that the lot of them were sharing glances behind his back, having a conversation that did not include words. That was perfectly fine. When he finally turned around with his coffee, the genius caught Steve throwing his hands up in a sort of giving up gesture to Nat, who was looking at him like a stern parent. 

 

“Guys. Stop. Seriously, it’s fine. Stop thinking that you have to repay me somehow, because I’ve stopped expecting anything from you a long time ago.” Tony snapped, a hard iciness behind his glare as he looked each of them in the eyes. Well, everyone except for Bucky, who was still silent and avoiding eye contact. Each of them had something to say, something to add, but no one offered any comment or any retaliation. 

 

All Tony wanted was some coffee, was that such a difficult thing to request?

 

With that, and no waiting for a response, he staked to the basement and pulled up his newest blueprints for whatever project he had up last. Keeping himself busy was the only things that kept him sane after something like that. Sipping his hot coffee, Tony Stark got to work. 

  
  
  


He did work, he worked for days, as he always did. Tony worked until he had a bruise on his hip from accidentally hitting the edge of the table as he sped by, in a haste to write down his newest idea. Until his eyes could no longer focus on the letters and numbers in front of him, the images blurring together into one mass of color. He worked until Friday’s words stopped making sense, and then he worked some more. 

 

The coffee in the mug was long gone, chugged long ago and remained dried at the bottom of the mug. 

 

Usually, Tony would have some sense of how much time had passed, but this time he had absolutely no idea. After being so exposed in front of the team like that, Tony needed something like this, a true spiral into his nasty, unhealthy habits. The shower had been nice, but it didn’t seem to have made a difference now, as grease and oil got underneath Tony’s fingernails and he had a swipe of ash across his cheek from the fire he’d accidentally started. 

 

Throughout all of this, he was murmuring to himself, pacing and working as if his time was running out. After all, it was. Eventually he’d have to sleep or get more coffee, or shower or eat. His work was something that he wished was something that never had to be interrupted. 

 

At least while he was working, he didn’t have to think about Bucky’s intense gaze, filled to the brim with emotion; and similarly, he didn’t have to mull over the hesitation in Steve’s voice, wondering who it was that forced the soldier to thank Tony when he so clearly did not want to. 

 

Eventually, like always, Tony was forced to get more coffee if he hoped to separate the colors in his vision. 

 

Reluctantly, it was always reluctantly, he made that journey up the steps again, trying desperately not to stumble and fall. Shrouded in silence and darkness, he turned the corner into the kitchen, and there he was again. Bucky Barnes, sitting at the table and waiting for something that Tony couldn’t identify. 

 

The screams of several nights before echoed in Tony’s mind, and he wondered idly if they’d echoed through the hall tonight. How many times has it happened, and no one had heard it? 

 

They never spoke at first, and Tony was almost positive that Bucky was waiting for him to make his coffee first before interrupting his process. Thank god their routine hadn’t been broken because of that horrible night. 

 

As soon as the warm, earthy smell of coffee filled the kitchen, Bucky spoke up. 

 

“I don’t like eggs and bacon.” His voice cut through the silence as it always did, but this time Tony didn’t mind so much. At least, not as much as that first night. Things were much less tense, though that could just be because Tony didn’t have the energy to be tense anymore. 

 

He didn’t have the energy for a lot of things. 

 

“That’s great.” Tony replied quietly, not entirely sure what else to say back to that. It was a random fact thrown out there, what was Bucky expecting?

 

“I just...everyone always makes it for breakfast. I don’t like it.” Bucky shifted uncomfortably, Tony heard him. For a moment, he was angry that he could identify the sound now. 

 

“But you eat it.” Tony pointed out, still with his back to Bucky as he stirred in the sugar. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Why?” Tony turned now, and met a gaze that was just as tired as his own. Not just physically tired but mentally tired too. Tired of life and conflict and pain. 

 

Tony couldn’t blame him. 

 

“I don’t know.” Bucky averted his gaze. 

 

Tony sipped his coffee, swirling it around in the mug like he always did. This was the comfortable silence that Tony was beginning to enjoy about these meetings. There was no rush, it was god knows how early in the morning and neither of them had to speak if they didn’t want to. So, Tony just stared at those hunched shoulders, that glint of light reflecting off of the metal arm. The way Bucky’s eyes looked around the room for answers or a foothold in the conversation. 

 

“So you don’t like eggs and bacon.” Tony repeated, and Bucky shook his head. “What  _ do _ you like?” 

 

Bucky hesitated and again, Tony didn’t push. It took the man several minutes to respond, and with a painful twist to his stomach, Tony finally figured out why. 

 

Bucky didn’t  _ know _ what he liked. 

 

Weeks ago, Tony would have been indifferent. Why should he care if the guy didn’t know what he liked? 

 

Now though, he was nauseous. 

 

“Toast.” 

 

Tony had barely heard Bucky, though that’s how it normally was anyways. It wasn’t a problem. 

 

“Toast? Toast is good. With jam or butter or anything?” Tony asked, really latching onto the one thing that Bucky was going to share that he liked. 

 

“No, nothing.” Bucky shook his head slowly, and Tony made a disgusted face. 

 

“Kind of bland, huh?” Not something Tony would enjoy, he liked foods packed full of flavor. Bucky gave a nod. 

 

“Yeah. Reminds me of home. We didn’t waste our butter or anything on toast.” He stated, and Tony supposed that made sense. Things that were liked out of nostalgia were the greatest in his opinion. 

 

“Oh.” Tony’s voice was soft then, as he took another sip of his coffee. What else was he supposed to say? To his relief, Bucky didn’t seem bothered by his short response. 

 

Anyone else would have been. 

 

Tony put a swift end to the conversation, suddenly frightened by the fact that they were getting more acquainted. Without another word, he left the kitchen back down to his safe place, his lab. 

  
  


Though the next time he came up during the day, he made a point to make toast in front of everyone. The genius ignored their startled stares as Tony actually got himself some food.

 

Little did they know, it wasn’t for him. 

 

Turning, Tony grabbed Bucky’s plate of bacon and eggs that Steve had made and he replaced it with a plate of toast. Then, just to be an ass, Tony made direct eye contact with Steve. 

 

“He doesn’t like bacon and eggs. He likes toast.” He stated firmly, throwing the entire plate in the trash. Steve had never looked so hilariously startled as Tony sauntered off to the basement again. 


	6. Chapter 6

“I don’t like staying inside.” Bucky blurted out, a couple nights later. Tony was too exhausted to let those words process right away, though he was too exhausted to do most things now. 

 

Sleep hadn’t come to take Tony in several days. The genius was unshaven and unwashed, leaning against the counter because he truly needed it to help him stay on his feet. The room was well lit this time, only because Tony was sure that darkness would will sleep to come along with it. There was far too much to do, far too much to work on to allow that to happen. 

 

So, Tony just refused to look directly at Barnes tonight, to avoid the way the light exposed every beautiful inch of that face. 

 

“What does that mean.” Tony murmured, staring down at the dark liquid in his mug, trying to remember how to move to take a drink. For some reason his thoughts were not connecting to his body, and no matter how hard he willed it to happen, his arm just would not move. 

 

Bucky paused for only several moments to put his straying thoughts together, but to Tony it felt like a lifetime. 

 

“Steve thinks I’m not ready to be outside on my own, but I hate being inside for this long. Makes me feel...cooped up.” Bucky murmured. 

 

Tony has to strain to hear him. 

 

He resisted the urge to turn around so that he could aid his hearing with lip reading. Though he didn’t want to risk making eye contact. Eye contact had proven to be a mistake of an action, it caused Tony’s blood to freeze and his breath to be stolen away. Every hint of pain, every hint of torture were pouring right out of those silver-blue eyes and more often than not, Tony could not handle seeing it. 

 

Tony didn’t know how to process that information, or how to even respond to Barnes. He shivered against the cool air of the night, and tried to focus on the edge of the counter pressed against his hip. The physical touch was grounding but not enough to get his mind working again. 

 

“Why are you telling me these things.” Tony responded quietly, though he knew that Bucky could hear him. 

 

Bucky always heard him. 

 

A couple of long beats passed by. 

 

“I don’t know. Because you listen?” Bucy guessed, and Tony wasn’t sure if he should take that as a valid response or an unspoken question without an answer. There could be an answer, Tony just didn’t know what it was. 

 

Tony didn’t respond either way. Didn’t Steve listen? Surely Steve was more attentive to his best friend than Tony was. It wasn’t hard with Bucky being so goddamn brutally honest and open with Tony all the time. 

 

Why didn’t the soldier blurt this stuff out to Steve?

 

Tony huffed out a sigh, an action that he barely even noticed. Everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion. His movements didn’t sync up with his mind, and his overworked brain seemed to be one beat behind the rest of the world. Honestly, it was incredibly frustrating and difficult to deal with, although Tony should be used to his body reacting like this. 

 

Tonight was a rather bad night. 

 

Tony’s stomach was twisting hard with hunger, and his poor heart was pounding against his ribs due to the amount of coffee he fueled it with. The man shouldn’t even be able to function, let alone be able to follow a conversation with Barnes. Though Tony knew that nightmares would take him as soon as he tried to sleep, so it was just easier staying awake like this. 

 

“Are you alright, Doll?” Barnes asked, his eyes analyzing Tony’s swaying body. The lights were suddenly far too bright for Tony’s eyes but he had no hope of commanding his body to move to the lightswitch. It didn’t occur to him that telling Friday to fix the lights was a valid option. 

 

Bucky’s voice didn’t register at all in Tony’s ears, all he heard was a fairly loud and annoying ringing noise. The ringing and swaying didn’t help with the nausea. 

 

“Huh?” Tony turned then, though he shouldn’t have. All he wanted was to be able to hear again, but the movement seemed to make it worse. Moving was like trudging through tar, with bones being weighed down. The counter kept him upright though, as it should have. 

 

Suddenly the soldier was right in front of him, but Tony couldn’t remember seeing him stand. Everything was so confusing and difficult to understand all of the sudden, and those lights were so  _ bright _ . 

 

It was blinding. 

 

Barnes was speaking, but Tony couldn’t hear him, although he desperately wanted to. The man kept looking down, why was he looking down like that? Was the floor that interesting?

 

Tony looked down too. 

 

_ Oh. _

 

Pooled at Tony’s feet, was undeniably hot coffee that had also spilled down the front of him with liquid that didn’t register anything in Tony’s mind. There was no way for him to be able to process what had happened, all he could do was stare dumbly at the broken fragments of the mug at his feet and try to follow Bucky’s movements as he cleaned it up. 

 

“Oh.” It was all Tony could get out as he stared down at Bucky, who’s features would be sharp and clear if Tony weren’t so fucking exhausted. The soldier could hit him with any sort of look right now and it wouldn’t matter one bit because Tony’s vision was swirling every image he saw into one big mass of color and shapes. 

 

Bucky’s mouth moved again, and this time Tony heard the noise but he didn’t have any hope of making out the words. Hopefully it wasn’t about how stupid he was being or how much of an idiot he was for not getting more sleep sooner. 

 

That’s what Pepper would do. 

 

Though Tony was so used to being yelled at for not sleeping, he was used to it by now. For some reason though, he really did not want to hear it from Barnes. 

 

Once that glass was cleaned up, Bucky started cleaning up the coffee that was already soaked into Tony’s socks. The only reason Tony knew what Bucky was doing at this point, was because he felt the gentle taps to his feet, a silent request to lift them one at a time so Bucky could clean the liquid underneath. 

 

It didn’t occur to Tony that Bucky tapping his feet to clean up the stupid mess he’d made was the first time Bucky had touched him since Siberia. 

 

Maybe it was a good thing that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind at the moment. 

 

Once the mess was all clean, Bucky stood back up and if Tony were in his right mind, he’d have surely noticed how Bucky towers over him, staring with that familiar frighteningly intense gaze. 

 

Tonight, Tony was immune. 

 

Again, all he could do was stare dumbly at the soldier. The man didn’t seem to mind though, he just let out a low sigh and gently grabbed Tony by the hand. Then, he paused so that he could make sure Tony was alright with that contact. 

 

Normally, Tony would have jerked away. Now, he held onto that soft, warm hand because if he let go, he was going to lose himself. 

 

Tony didn’t catch the startled glance from Bucky. 

 

Then they were moving. One step after the other, easy does it, don’t give in to the nausea or the dizziness. 

 

In reality, they got there in less than a minute but to Tony, it was the longest walk of his life. 

 

He held onto Bucky for dear life, using his other hand now to hold onto Bucky’s wrist along with his hand. 

 

Why was it so hard to stay upright?

 

In an instant, all Tony knew was the soft mattress beneath him, and the odd sensation of his wet socks being pulled off of his feet. Thank god for that, because wet socks were the absolute worst. After a few deep breaths and slow blinks, Tony’s hands moved across the mattress, trying to figure out where he was. 

 

“Where..” He murmured softly, not recognizing his surroundings to be his own room. The pressure against his hand came back, giving Tony something to keep him grounded. 

 

“My room. It’s closer to the kitchen. You wanna be in yours?” Bucky asked, although it knew it was a fair chance that Tony would not at all be able to understand or process what it was that he was saying. 

 

To his surprise though, Tony shook his head slowly and carefully, finally letting his eyes fall shut. 

 

Bucky noticed right away how Tony’s breath evened out in just seconds after figuring out where he was. Clearly the man was exhausted the sleep deprived, probably fairly dehydrated too. All of those things added up to confusion, delirium and extreme fatigue. When Tony woke up, Bucky hoped that he wouldn’t be too upset for being placed in Bucky’s room instead of his own. Bucky just wanted to get Tony to a bed as fast as possible before he fell over completely. 

 

Letting go of Tony’s hand, Bucky moved to the lights and turned them down, just to dim so that if Tony woke in the night he wouldn’t be too disoriented. 

 

Then, he turned and left the room to go sit back in the kitchen. With his hearing, he’d be able to catch any sounds coming from that room, just in case Tony needed any help. 


	7. Chapter 7

The night passed impossibly slow. Bucky sat out in the kitchen until the sun finally rose sluggishly, splashing oranges and reds across the sky like a spill of paint. The snow had finally stopped, and the light reflected off of the clean white ground, easily blinding anyone in sight. The air had a sense of blue chill about it, and big chunks of snow constantly fell from the limbs of trees that were too tired to hold it up anymore. 

 

With a big, wide yawn, Bucky finally rose from the table, bones cracking with the movement that his body hadn’t seen coming. He’d expected Tony to wake up screaming until his throat stopped working or needing something, but there was nothing but suffocating silence through the tense night. The glass from the mug had been all cleaned up, no trace of coffee on the floor anymore. Hopefully, Tony wouldn’t be too upset about waking up in a room that was not his own, and he wouldn’t be too scared off to come back for future nights. 

 

These times of quiet tenderness were things that Bucky looked forward to now. There was a kind of feeling that Tony gave off, a non judgemental tone about him. Bucky had to admit that more often than not, he didn’t necessarily have to sit in the kitchen to calm down anymore. 

 

Mostly, he just wanted to see Tony again, and he’d wait however long it took for the genius to come up from his lab. Some nights he didn’t come up at all, and that was okay. 

 

As long as Bucky could see him sometimes at least. 

 

Silently, the soldier padded to his room to just check in with Tony, who was just starting to stir. His breath stopped in his throat as he focused on that serene expression on Tony’s face. In this light, he could see it well. The way Tony’s eyebrows held no tension the way his lips were relaxed. There was no tension in sight, and he must have slept very well, which spoke loads about how tired Tony had been.

 

The man blinked groggily, letting out a barely audible moan as he shifted ever so slightly until his body was more accustomed to being awake and active.   
  
Unfortunately, the tension returned to Tony’s expression very quickly. In an instant, Tony was sitting up, looking around and trying to remember how he’d gotten to where he was.   
  
His eyes kept flitting back to Bucky, as if the answer would be plastered across the man’s face.   
  
“This is your room.” Tony stated plainly, frowning at Bucky and not afraid of the look of intensity that Bucky returned.   
  
“Yes.” Bucky confirmed softly, knowing that it didn’t dim or ease any of Tony’s discomfort. He didn’t offer any more though, instead choosing to wait until Tony asked. Sometimes too much information could be overwhelming.   
  
Bucky watched as those brown eyes considered his surroundings again, eyebrows pushing together in faint confusion. Tony was trying to recall his memories of last night, and Bucky was sure that they must be hazy.   
  
“Why?” Tony asked, trusting Bucky to tell him the absolute truth. Neither of them had ever lied to each other, and they both didn’t expect it to start now.   
  
“You were overtired. You needed sleep.” Bucky answered simply, moving further into the room and lowering himself to sit on the bed by Tony’s feet. After realizing that this was not unwanted, Bucky turned and sat with his legs crossed, facing Tony. They were about an arm’s length apart, which was a good distance apart, but also close enough so they they could see every detail of the other’s face.   
  
That was a nice change too, the fact that the room was finally well lit enough for them to see each other plainly. There was no shadows hiding the pain, nothing to hide behind.   
  
“Oh.” Tony broke eye contact and looked around. The room was rather boring, expect for the backpack in the corner. It hit Tony in a certain area of his heart when he realized that Bucky’s backpack was packed in case he decided that he wanted to leave. In case things got too overwhelming, or in case he was attacked in his own personal space again like he had been before.   
  
Bucky gave a slight nod in response, letting the silence wash over them again. 

 

It was moments like these when Tony appreciated the silence that Bucky was willing to let happen. Everyone else would squirm with discomfort upon being faced with silence like this, but to both Bucky and Tony, it was kind of comforting to sit like this, without expecting anything from each other.   
  
This close, Bucky could see the sleep lines across Tony’s cheeks, red from the sheets and his possible lack of movement all night. Furthermore, he could see the discomfort in Tony’s eyes, and Bucky wondered if Tony’s neck hurt. The genius was bound to be stiff after a night like that.   
  
“What were you telling me last night? You said something.” Tony muttered, still avoiding eye contact with Bucky. Instead, those brown eyes were stuck memorizing the pattern that was on the rug across the floor. “ I don’t remember what you said.”  
  
For a moment, Bucky was puzzled. He couldn’t recall saying anything of importance to Tony last night, but he was also very focused on the latter end of the night, when Tony was completely unresponsive. Then, he thought maybe he knew what Tony was talking about.   
  
“Oh. I don’t like staying inside.” 

 

Tony nodded, satisfied that trying to remember that from his hazy memories wouldn’t plague him anymore. The man absolutely hated when his memory didn’t work right, and he had to pace and stew over one tiny thing that he couldn’t seem to remember. It was infuriating and upsetting, and eventually he’d just give up, which is not something he wanted to do when it came to the things Bucky decided to tell him. Something told Tony that Bucky didn’t share these kinds of things with Steve, and the man wanted to know why.   
  
They weren’t close enough for him to ask though, not specifically about Steve. Tony was sure that even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to get Steve’s name out of his mouth without reigniting that anxiety he felt. 

 

“Right, you don’t like staying inside. So why don’t you go outside?” It seemed like a simple solution to Tony, but the conflict behind Bucky’s eyes told him that maybe it wasn’t as simple as he’d like to believe.   
  
Bucky took a few moments to consider, but that was okay because Tony never pushed him to answer very quickly anyways. Instead of responding, Bucky gave a sly smile.   
  
“It’s not midnight, I don’t think now is the time to be asking me this stuff. Too much light.” He teased softly. 

 

A smile played at Tony’s lips at the tease. He was glad that he wasn’t the only one who liked the darkness during their talks. Bucky noticed it too, that much was obvious.   
  
The light teasing tone and the slight smile looked different on Bucky’s expression, but it was a good kind of different. In Tony’s opinion, Bucky should definitely smile more often. The smile made him seem more at ease, and it was also very contagious. Tony couldn’t help the bubble of pleasure that arose in his chest at seeing just a twinge of relaxation in Bucky’s face.   
  


Bucky Barnes never looked relaxed, there was always a sense of tension about him. Tense around the eyes, jaw clenched as he expected the worst out of life. Tony didn’t blame him, but he did enjoy seeing him unwind a little bit. 

 

“Yeah yeah, you’re right. I need my coffee first before I start getting into your shit again.” Tony murmured back. Maybe it was the well rested night that kept the venom out of his tone. 

 

Bucky let out a laugh that just absolutely melted Tony’s heart. Tony didn’t want his heart to melt, and he hadn’t expected it to, but that laugh just spread warmth in his chest. 

 

“What you need, is some breakfast. I can’t go outside because everyone will assume I’m running.” BUcky replied softly, smoothly moving to stand up from the bed. Tony watched him with the curiosity of a cat, eyes wide and assessing his every move. Bucky couldn’t tell if Tony was curious about where he was going and his movements, or if he was curious about what he’d just told him.

 

Tony stood anyways, deciding not to ask about Bucky’s explanation at all, but he just silently followed Tony out and into the hall. This was such a fragile state in their relationship as people. 

 

Bucky and Tony both felt equally as anxious about messing up whatever they had together right now that was compelling them to get along well as human beings. Bucky offering for Tony to have breakfast, and what was even more shocking was the fact that Tony agreed, and followed him. 

 

Tony followed Bucky into the kitchen despite who could’ve been there. Despite what could be happening. 

 

Upon reaching the kitchen, a cold sort of dread filled Tony’s chest upon seeing Steve and Natasha at the table, chatting softly over two half eaten bowls of cereal. Of course, they both fell silent as Tony and Bucky came in, both of them equally as shocked to see Tony and Bucky coming in together. 

 

Tony shifted uncomfortably under their intense gaze that threatened to tear his soul right into pieces, exposed in front of everyone to see. 

 

Bucky moved right in front of Tony, shielding them from him, acting as a physical barrier against Steve and Natasha’s scrutiny. With such broad shoulders, and such height, Tony was unable to see Steve and Natasha at all. With his newfound privacy behind the brick wall of a person, Tony took a soft gasp of air that he hadn’t realized that he was holding. 

 

“Why’re you staring at him like that.” Bucky asked, his voice low and gruff like he was already expecting a fight upon asking it. Which, knowing Steve and Natasha, was not unreasonable in the slightest.

 

“We weren’t.” Natasha answered too quickly. Now, that only made Bucky more angry. Not only was she lying straight to his face, but she also spoke to him like she was trying to calm a wild animal. Steve didn’t do that, thankfully, but he didn’t speak to Bucky plainly either. 

 

Bucky gave Steve a pointed look, and he averted his gaze. 

 

“Yes you were. Stop lookin’ at him like that. He’s allowed to be in his own kitchen.” Bucky snapped, earning him a cautious look from both of them. Cautious looks that bucky knew would not go over well. So, he took a forcibly calming breath. 

 

“I just don’t like the way you’re looking at him. I’m sorry.” Bucky spoke in a strained tone, and Steve and Natasha both turned back to their cereal, assuming the bomb had been diffused. 

 

Tony, watching all of this and comprehending every tone and every movement very carefully, and it made him furious. Bucky often reminded him of a caged lion in the circus, pacing and just bending to every command. The lion roars and the ringleaders looked over, and the lion scrambled to right himself. 

 

That wasn’t right. Bucky should be allowed to have feelings, should certainly be allowed to be irritated without the fear of them accusing him of a relapse. 

  
  


“Bucky and I are going outside.”  Tony blurted. 

  
  


Now, of all times that Tony did appreciate silence, this was certainly not one of those times. No one said anything at all for a good few moments, long enough to make the silence absolutely terrifying. 

 

He wished he could take the words back, especially when Bucky turned and gave him a surprised, but grateful expression. That expression just told Tony that there was no possible way he’d be able to be morally okay with taking that back. 

 

Bucky looked so  _ pleased _ , so satisfied and hopeful at the chance of going outside for once. 

 

Almost immediately, Tony was met with opposition that only served to further infuriate him. 

 

“No, Tony, he’s not ready for that. He could hurt someone or-or have a relapse, or a panic attack. It’s not a good idea.” It was Steve who opposed first, eyes firm and tone commanding. It was like he was speaking directly to one of his soldiers, but Tony wasn’t having it. Natasha parted her lips to speak too, but Tony cut her off. 

 

“No. You know what? No. Rogers, he needs to go outside. In the sunlight. Keeping him locked away is not good for his health, and he wants to go outside.” Tony snapped, growling with venomous intent, eyes filled with fire as he silently dared Seve to oppose him. 

 

Steve remained silent for several beats before turning his gaze to Bucky. 

 

“Is that true? Bucky, whatever you need you know I’ll give you-” Steve began with his stupid puppy dog eyes. Bucky cut him off. 

 

“Yeah. Steve I want to go outside with Tony.” His tone was soft, almost sorry for opposing Steve and correcting what he thought about Bucky’s feelings. 

 

Steve seemed to comply immediately, nodding and returning to his cereal again. He was very clearly uncomfortable, now knowing that Bucky wanted to willingly hang out with Tony over him, and he didn’t know what to do with that information. 

 

Tony didn’t either. 

 

Not many people would willingly hang out with him, let alone admit to it out loud in front of someone who didn’t want to hear it. Bucky had just thrown it in Steve’s face without thinking about how the other man would feel about that, and Tony suspected that Bucky didn’t necessarily care. 

  
  
  


That information was very overwhelming. 

 

“You do?” Tony asked stupidly, ignoring the roll of Natasha’s eyes from over at the table. Tony looked at Bucky like he was a puzzle that was impossible to understand. 

 

“Yeah. You invited me, didn’t you?” Bucky stared, just as puzzled back at Tony. They weren’t on the same wavelength today, but when were they ever on the same page? Hell, Tony would be satisfied if they were even in the same book. 

 

Tony gave another stupid nod, stunned. 

 

“Okay...so then I’d like to go.” Bucky concluded softly, icy blue eyes pleading to let this be true. 

 

Tony was stuttering like an idiot, trying to figure out how to get out of this. Surely he didn’t want to go for a walk with the same man the murdered his mom, right? Or, rather, the same body that murdered his mom. Would it be so horrible that he, perhaps,  _ would _ want to go on this walk?

 

So what if those intimate nights had made an impact on Tony’s heart and mind and reasoning skills. So what if the soldier had taken up some space in his heart. Sue him, he’d been exhausted and out of his mind and Bucky put him in his room. The least Tony owed him was a nice walk. 

 

“I...It’s cold.” Tony murmured, and Bucky nodded in agreement. It was cold, he agreed. That would be enough to hold Steve off, Steve who was appreciative of heated blankets and anything to stave off the chill of winter. Bucky, though, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. 

 

“I’ve got warm clothes.” He answered simply, continuing finally into the kitchen to start making breakfast. He’d left Tony there, stunned and upset with himself for letting this happen. Was it because he was still tired from sleeping so hard? Or was it more because he’d finally warmed up enough to Bucky to let something like this happen in the first place. 

 

Tony padded silently to the table, sitting at the opposite end from Steve and Natasha, blatantly ignoring their glances of curiosity and their judging eyes. He didn’t have to answer to them. 

 

Soon enough, Bucky had gently set down a bowl of cereal in front of him, with a sort of gentle touch that Tony didn’t even know Bucky had in him, and he sat across from him. 

 

“Are you okay, Sugar?” Bucky asked quietly. Sugar? Where did that come from? Apparently Tony wasn’t the only one who’d been stunned by this, because Steve and Natasha’s eyes snapped to Bucky’s almost as fast as Tony’s did. 

 

“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.” Tony nodded, so confused and stunned. He looked down at his bowl and slowly ate the cereal through breakfast, his mind working at a mile a minute. Nowhere in his mind had he come up with a true excuse as to what the hell he’d just agreed to. 

  
  


Oh well, how bad could it really be? It was just one walk, after all. 


End file.
